Potter's Twin Sister || Draco Malfoy

12

I was happily dreaming about being a famous Healer at St. Mungo's until I was woken up in the kindest way —a pillow being thrown at me— by Malfoy.

Moments later, the Great Hall had been emptied of sleeping students and sleeping bags and was back to its normal state.

I felt bad for not having breakfast with Lyra, but I had to tell Harry everything about the conversation between Professor Snape and Dumbledore.

"So, what are you trying to tell me? That Snape meant to say Professor Lupin helped Black into the castle?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"Here's the problem. I think so. But that doesn't make any sense, does it? Professor Lupin and Dad were very good friends when they were young. He already said that to me and also to you." I reasoned.

A complicated and fed-up look washed over my brother's face. "Why does everything have to be complex?" Harry groaned.

We were already in November and nothing.

We still didn't know anything about Black. What we did know was that there was something hidden from Harry and me.

Sometimes I wonder if we overlooked a stupid little detail that might lead us to answers.

Maybe it wasn't appropriate, but I could ask Professor Lupin about Black.

We had Defence Against the Dark Arts today, and it wouldn't be the first time for me to stick around after class—it was becoming a habit for me to do, really.

I had been impatiently waiting the whole morning for our second subject from today, DADA, to see Professor Snape walking into the classroom instead of Professor Lupin.

"Turn to page three hundred ninety-four." He demanded in a drawling voice.

"Where's Lupin?" Harry asked, whispering.

"Dunno."

Unable to contain my curiosity, my hand shot up instinctively, eager to know why Professor Lupin was absent.

"Excuse me, sir. Where's Professor Lupin?"

The dull man considered my words for a moment.

"That's not really your concern, is it, Potter? Suffice to say is that your Professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time."

Strange, and I wasn't talking about Lupin's absence. At least, not only that. It was strange because I felt like it was my concern, a feeling that was difficult to put into words.

I had hoped that Professor Lupin would return soon, but in the meantime, the unexpected lesson about werewolves managed to capture my interest initially.

However, it dragged on and became tedious, and to make matters worse, we were assigned homework on the subject.

As the afternoon approached, I sought refuge in the Library.

Surrounded by a scattered pile of at least fifteen books, ranging from The Boy Who Lived to The Greatest Crimes in History and The First Wizarding War. I also had a collection of articles from the Daily Prophet focused on Black.

Books always gave Hermione her answers, why wouldn't they give me my answers as well?

With a large piece of parchment and my quill, I set to work.

Single curse.

Massacre.

Thirteen people. Twelve Muggles, one wizard. Who was the Wizard?

October 31, 1981, the night my parents died.

Sirius Black.

Draco Malfoy. Revenge. Voldemort.